


The Shield

by JenCforCarolina



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Gen, Player Character - Freeform, Warforged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 22:59:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17969684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenCforCarolina/pseuds/JenCforCarolina
Summary: How often do you see a shield without a sword? Not often. I am half of a whole, and nothing can ever make me complete again.





	The Shield

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this prose for my most beloved DnD character last year, and just want to archive it somewhere really. And it's some worldbuilding I''m really proud of, so enjoy!

+0

They woke in a dim room, feeling stiff. Things were in hypersharp clarity, they remembered their vision receding from their eyes and returning, things fading in and out. There was a lot of motion around them, and a cacophonous din of noise, but the one that was most important was the faint, resonant click when the creature beside them moved his arm. They could not see, their view was blocked, but they knew. They turned their head to look at him the moment he turned his head to look at them. They looked like him, he looked like them. They knew in the first glance that he would die for them, and they for him.

He tried to raise his other arm and they found it linked, their gauntlets forged from the same mold. Shield pulled away and the tether broke, the last bit holding their bracers together. In unison, they looked at their weapons, hefted them.

The people moving around them were small, but one giant waded through the crowd, towering over all of them. He looked down at the brothers and said. “You are the titan and you are the shield. Go to war.” The earth rocked below them, just slightly. Above, the noises of people was a distant bass, of heavy things and of destruction.

A dwarf jumped into their view and got their attention, led them forth past the giant and out of the room, down a long even darker hallway. It filled with others, armored dwarves, less armored constructs like themselves. It was dark, and there was a tension in the air, in grim expressions.

Their brother, Vonin, shifted a half step behind them, so with each stride his shoulder bumped the back of theirs. It was security for them to know he was there, the blade. It was security for him to have them in front, the shield.

The hallway reached a door, one that opened outside to a dark clouded sky. The line of people joined more on a road, headed straight into the blackness. There were less dwarves with each mile. The world grew louder at the same time.

The road led to war. No one explained, but they did not need to. They knew it when they arrived. Shield brought their weapon to bear, Vonin took to their side and darted around, swiping and slashing with his Greatsword, dancing back to be covered. The demonic creatures that charged them were small, the ones that watched from further were larger. The pair of them were tall, so Vonin and Shield charged the flaming wraiths, the wicked black swords and maces. Fellow constructs kept the smaller creatures from their backs. Everything was black and red and sickly purple and green for a long time, until it was not.

* * *

+10

They meant to rest together but Shield stayed awake. They felt Vonin slip into his inert state, energy low and enchantments pulsing lightly. They did not follow, kept their shield at hand, despite sitting against the wall, against their sibling. They watched the gap in the rocks, the light reddish glow from outside. The sky was sometimes the pale blue color of their runes, sometimes the soft red of his. They spent the hours watching it change, until he stirred beside them. Shield did not have to look to feel the wordless judgement. Their brother stood, moved around them to their other side, and took a place facing the entrance, with his sword hilt in hand and the point on the floor. While he stood vigil, Shield settled.

* * *

+20

When it was just the two of them, they did not need to speak. For decades, it was just silent them. They wandered the mountains, faced its denizens time and again. They learned none of the giants here were like the first they met, like the one who had spoken to them on the day they were born. They tried to take trails out, down into the foothills, only to wind up turning back for one reason or another, and ending always where they began, at the Forge. They walked the empty halls; this bastion had fallen not long after they had left. They gathered tools and supplies to care for themselves, to mend greater wounds than the enchantments could heal. They spent a long few days dragging the bodies -some of whom must have helped create them- to one room deep in the building, laying them side by side with arms crossed on chests and weapons in hand. Closed and sealed the door.

They left again, and years later returned. The door was smashed, the bodies strewn, the weapons and armor taken. Vonin searched angrily for evidence of who had done it, and finding none took to stabbing the rats. Shield just gently shifted the bodies back to rest, placed hands on chests, despite the rot and decay.

* * *

+30

They found people, sometimes, on the road. The people were always afraid. It upset Vonin, he wanted something from them he could not place, but Shield pulled him away. They did not want to be something the people feared, and so they wished to avoid them.

Sometimes they ventured far, along the ridge, but the mountains were what they knew, so they never descended from them. Every time they left for a long time, returning was harder. Creatures moved into the forges, and had to be handled.

* * *

+40

It was when they were returning to the familiar places that they found the settlement. Nestled on a plateau between two tall peaks, where a stream had once run, was a cluster of homes, and fledgling fields. It was not more than a few days from the Forges if one knew the way.

Vonin was openly curious, Shield remembered every traveler they had found, how they had run and feared. They followed their brother dutifully, but their hesitance kept him slow as well. They stopped at the edge of the fields, in plain view, watching. The people working saw them, and did shout and run. Not long after, others came back with swords and bows, and the pair turned and left.

Still, they watched the town, tried their best not to be seen. The people were forever vigilant, and did not appear to grow comfortable in their inaction. They were fragile beings though, and in the cold winter when the patrols tightened and the people did not venture as far, Vonin and Shield discouraged the wolves, the bears, and the roaming yeti from the budding town. In the spring they ventured down the pass with the melt, to see what lurked from the south.

* * *

+50

This autumn, when they came home, they were unprepared.

In their absence a creature had moved in, when they found feathers they thought it was another harpy tribe. But they found more and discovered them too big.

The Roc descended from the largest chamber, shrieking. It clawed at them and they retreated to a tunnel it could not fit through. They regrouped, had not fought anything so large in years, and pulled away, deciding to outwait the bird and ambush it later.

They took up camp outside on the ridge, watched from a distance the only entrance large enough for the creature.

It was around noon Vonin shifted, and Shield moved to crouch beside him. But he was not watching the door, he looked the other way, down the pass.

A band of people, making their way up the shallow canyon towards the forges. They were armed well and had a cart with a ballista loaded onto it, being pulled by four men at a time.

Vonin touched their shoulder and they followed his gaze. Across the pass, watching like they were, was the face of a troll.

It hefted a boulder and Shield stood, taking a step into the air and hurling their weapon. The impact hit it in the shoulder, set off its balance and drew out a roar of pain. The rock slipped from it’s grasp as Shield landed, tore past the caravan and braced. Their shield returned to them in time, and the mass of stone slammed into it with a ring that echoed through the canyon. The troll shouted again and jumped to meet them. Vonin swept past, swung his greatsword wide, missed the first swipe, but pulled back in time to counter a blow.

Shield checked behind them, the people were shouting and drawing weapons. They scanned the crowd, deciding if it was safe to turn their backs and focus on the threat. The person that caught their attention was a young woman in warm furs, somewhat pointed ears, and a staff clutched in her hands. Her eyes were wide, but she returned the gaze, raced forward and cast out her hand to touch them. The contact of the magic felt like an odd tingling, and their shield’s rune flashed white for a moment, but the girl nodded, and Shield chose to trust. They broke away and moved to join their brother in the fight, hurled the shield to draw the troll’s attention. They’d hardly put any effort into the aim, intent only to distract, but it connected solidly with the beast’s jaw, as though pushed by an invisible, magical hand.

Vonin took it’s arm off as it recovered, and Shield swung in and kneecapped it. As it fell, he brought down his blade and lopped off its head.

The girl dashed forward, flung out a hand, fingers rapidly formed a glyph. A small spark of flame grew and morphed into a sphere, that struck the troll between the eyes. She held her position, as Shield and Vonin held theirs, waited, watched its head burn away. When seconds passed and the body did not twitch, she breathed a sigh of relief. In unison, the brothers relaxed and turned to face the band. Bows were notched and drawn, but as they looked over the people, the weapons were lowered. Tensions seemed relieved, but still they kept their berth.

Shield turned to go, Vonin followed, with remorse.

“Wait!” It was the girl who called. Vonin halted and turned back, he would have if anyone had spoken to him. He wanted to meet people, it was why he yearned to travel so much. Shield turned because of the girl, because she had been brave and something about that needed to be protected.

“Thank you.” She continued and her voice broke a little. “If it would not be much of a bother, can you help us more?”

Vonin took a few strides towards her, she held her ground. He took a knee before her with his sword in one hand, point in the dirt. It was taller than she was.

She swallowed, looking small in his presence, and continued. “I know you have watched our town since I was very little. I always thought you protected us. If that is true, please help us kill the Roc that lives in these ruins. It carried off a child a few days ago.”

He answered, and it was strange to hear someone they had lived beside for fifty years speak for the first time. “We have, we do, we will.”

She looked past him to Shield, who walked to stand beside their brother as he straightened up. She bowed slightly and backed away to rejoin the people who had been watching.

Shield moved to the front of the procession. Vonin headed for the cart, took hold of the ropes, relieving all four men. He wound the strands around his arm once, clutched them in his fist, and pulled them over his shoulder. The cart began to move, quicker than before. One of the dwarves laughed, and struck up a conversation, that Vonin gladly joined, as though he had been speaking for years.

The girl slunk up front, watching Shield and the road in equal parts. “Who are you?” She asked.

Shield recited what they had been told. “He is the vonin, the titan, I am the skold, the shield.”

“Is that what you are called?”

“We have been called nothing else.”

She considered the words, and the path before her. “Vonin sounds nice, but skold sounds harsh. Shield has a pleasant ring. It sounds like you.”

They agreed, privately, and kept walking.

“I’m Ashraven.” She volunteered. After a few more steps, though, she hung back, receding. Shield turned to see what was the matter, if she had spotted anything.

“I’m sorry, I thought I may be bothering you.” She tucked hair back into her hood.

“No.” They intoned. Ashraven picked up her step to match them again, but kept her hands clutching her staff, looking like she was trying to be small.

“You don’t speak much.”

“It is my first time.”

“Ever?” They nodded. “But didn’t you travel together, didn’t you need to speak?”

“No. We knew.”

“Oh.” Ashraven squinted at them. “Like magic, are you magic? You must be some kind of magic, you are not made of flesh are you?”

“I do not know.”

She frowned, raised a hand and swirled her fingers. The tingle of a spell crashed over them, and they glared down.

“It didn’t do anything.” Ashraven said hurriedly. “It was just for looking, to see. Yes, you are magic, arcane.”

“Don’t burn your spells Ashraven!” Vonin’s dwarf called from behind them.

“I know what I’m doing!” She shouted back. Turning back to Shield, she admitted. “I was scared before, and being careful, but I’m not worried with you both here.”

“The creature roosts in our home, we will take care of it.” They assured her.

“You live there?”

“It is all we know.”

“I mean, you could come back to the village with us, after.”

“I would not.”

Ashraven’s tone shifted to something that sounded challenging. “What is wrong with it?”

“Nothing is wrong, it is a place of organics, it is not for us.”

“It’s a village, it is a place for the community. You’ve helped us, that counts.”

“We are war-forged. It is not for us.”

Ashraven made an unflattering face, but the group was rounding the bend, the great wide doorway of the forges before them. Shield halted, and held out a hand to catch her.

Vonin dragged the cart a few steps further, to pull it in line with Shield. He cast a glance at them, then looked to Ashraven and back. Shield tilted their head, a challenge. The wordless communication was understood. Their brother had suggested they remain behind and protect the group, leaving him to fight the bird alone. Their reply: not a chance.

“Use the cart for cover.” Vonin said to the party. “Keep up ranged attacks until you’re out of arrows, then leave it to us.” In sync, both Warforged marched towards the doorway. Shield a half-step ahead, bolstered by their brother at their shoulder. Vonin a half step behind, sheltered by their bulk.

There was a loud huffing laugh. A cluster of the group shouldered axes and hammers and strode forward, following. Dwarves, stubborn lot as usual.

Shield glared at Vonin, he was the one so intent on traveling with a group, but he could not get them to listen to reason.

“It’s our town!” One of the dwarves -Vonin’s dwarf, Graulken- called in protest, as if he could read what Shield had thought. In response to his call, the Roc screamed an echoing cry.

“It is our home.” Shield countered, and strode forward to meet the beast.

The bird came for the nearest movement, as beasts often did, and Vonin’s sword caused it pain it could not ignore. Many of the dwarves had brought spears, seeing the value of reach in a fight against a bird, and left their hammers in the cart, for trouble on the road.

The ballista was powerful but it’s crew inexperienced, and though twice it struck true, more bolts glanced off the ancient walls of the forges. One embedded itself there, and Shield was struck with the thought of how many cracks in the fortress’s exterior had been caused by war machines like that.

The bird died, the people cheered. Graulken particularly made a show of chopping off it’s head. Vonin and Shield stood aside.

Ashraven saw, somehow understood the silent summons they called their brother with.

“Won’t you return with us?” She begged once more.

Shield turned away, trudged towards the now-empty forges. Vonin followed slowly after. At the doorway, he stopped as they somehow knew he would, and they paused and tuned in the same second.

“We should go.” Vonin said, aloud. It was still strange and grating. Shield voiced their disapproval mutely, but knew it was what he wanted, to see people, to be around them and speak with them. He wanted to be seen. They disapproved, yes, but if it would make him happy, it would be fine.

“Thanks.” He murmured, and the pull of his chin almost passed for the smiles the organics made. Shield clapped him on the shoulder, a strike of metal on metal that made Ashraven jump and whirl to look at them.

“Lead the way.” Vonin said, and Graulken cheered, raising his bloody hammer.

“You’ll ‘ave to teach our boys someuh that!” He gestured to the sword. “And you!” Shield inclined their head, incredulous. “Gotta teach ‘em how to work together. Cus’ you two. That’s something special right there.”

Vonin snorted at the pride that filtered into Shield’s posture. “Let’s get going then, yes? The bird is dead.”

Graulken and the other Dwarves struck up a cheer that morphed into song. The other people of varying races joined in for the choruses, once they got used to the words. Vonin waited a few verses, enjoying the pleasure around him, before he eventually joined in as well.

Ashraven fell into step with Shield, at the back of the group, and stayed there for the entire walk. When the sun set, they set camp. Shield and Vonin took first, second, and third watch. The early risers took over for fourth, and the brothers settled together for once. It was the first time Shield felt the security of a group, and they never lost their taste for it.

* * *

+60

It was Graulken who wanted to leave, see the south. Vonin was eager to follow, to meet more people. Shield was bound to follow him anywhere and did not mind the idea of seeing new horizons. Ashraven had grown from near-child to mature woman and competent caster. Her confidence blossomed into its own strength, and though her reliance on the group waned, she too left home and followed the road with them.

* * *

+70

Ashraven was theirs. Graulken spoke with Vonin, about stone and metal and weapons, compared anything he found to the titan’s sword. Their game, because they both knew nothing could equate.  
Ashraven sat quietly at Shield’s knee, sometimes watched the discussion, sometimes piped in. Usually repaired something, or studied her book, or practiced weaving little vines with druidcraft. Once, after a battle, while Shield worked on taking care of their armor, she pressed her fingers around the gaps, knitting wood fibers back together. They hummed in thanks and it made her smile. When they settled, she curled against Shield’s side to sleep.

When battles were fought, Shield trusted Vonin to handle himself, and split their time between covering their brother and covering their caster, their Ashraven.

* * *

+80

“Shield, we have to go.”

Of course they did, of course. The beholder would turn on them soon. Graulken was dead, Vonin was dead, Ashraven was in danger. They could do something about one of those things.

They scooped her off her feet, shield on their back, tucked her against their chest, and ran. She beastshaped in their arms, into a small tree rodent, crawled to their neck and tucked into their collar. She was safe, and their hands were free. They powered through the run, took to the wall, scaled it easily enough. They ran for hours, slowing only when Ashraven began to chitter loudly. She emerged from her form, worn and tired, so they pulled her back into their arms and carried on. Even as they walked she pressed her hands to Shield’s arms, shoulders, chest, casting mending and druidcraft on the cracks and stresses, stitching them physically back together.

They went for what must have been days, until their enchantments jittered and threatened to fail. Ashraven moved earth to create a cave, sealed it up behind, nestled them both into an illusion of safety. She kept watch while they settled, and it was the longest night of their lives.

When they saw sunlight again she was pale and weak. It was luckily spring, there were berries in thickets and the creeks ran clear with snow melt. Ashraven regained her strength, but the shine to her eyes was gone, she looked as empty as Shield. Both broken in halves.

* * *

+90

Ashraven stood before the statue with tears threatening to mar the corners of her eyes. They were easy to miss, the years had put lines on her face and steel in her spine. But Shield knew her now, not like they had known their brother, but close.

For the town, the statue was a memorial to a hero gone by. It was something they smiled at when they passed, waved to on their way out of the town and nodded gratefully to on their way back in. It was a symbol of strength, of home, of hearth, of welcome. But for Shield and Ashraven, it was a memory of death and despair.

“They named the whole town after him.” She murmured, ending with a wry snort. “I guess it’s about time, we’ve been around a few generations with no name. And Vonin is not a bad one…”

“I do not mind.” Shield assured her.

“I wasn’t worried about that.” She lied. Ashraven always cared what they may feel, had never quite grasped that for the most part, they were impartial to the perceptions of man. She continued. “I was just thinking, what happens when you die someday? Do they rename the town? Make a new one next to it?”

“I will simply have to live forever, to spare them the problem.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

They chuckled, deep and base. Settled a gentle but heavy hand on Ashraven’s shoulder.

“I cannot promise it, it is a little unrealistic, but I will do my best.”

“Outlive me.” She requested, with bitterness and bile.

They realized with sudden heartache, they would.

* * *

+150

Ashraven grew old. She found someone to grow old with: Trist was a half-orc of ambiguous gender, and a kind and gentle heart. Her adventuring days passed behind her, and she returned to Vonin’s town. She settled in her old house with her partner and the son they had found on the road, a Tiefling, abandoned and alone.

Shield tried settling down as well, but discovered it painful. Day in day out, watching people repeat the same tasks, the same struggles. All mundane, all trivial. There was no peace to safety, security, not for them.

Each long day, they watched their friends grow closer to death.

On the road, it was different. Death danced in and out of view, and the times to cherish were when it was far off. But living settled was a constant creep. They hid this thought, were ashamed and embarrassed, because the road was dangerous, it was hard to protect people, and there were many more risks. They should be satisfied by those they cared for being safe.

But it was the campsites, the songs, the laughter. The challenge and the respite. All mountains came with their dangers, but they were worth it anyway. Maybe it was Vonin’s memory, but the road was made to be walked, not watched.

* * *

+200

One day things came to an end. But it was not the end. Ashraven’s death brought the low, persistent understanding that as all things slowly passed, they would continue to weather the test of time, as stone did. Ashraven had asked them not to die, and it seemed they could keep that promise for some time, so long as they were careful. Their enchantments were as strong as they had been since losing Vonin, they could feel no decay nor rust, so long as they kept themselves repaired and in order. The only thing that was occasionally fallible was the mind. After so many years of travel, they knew they did not remember every face they had met along the road, nor every name of every kind soul they had spoken to.

Ashraven had kept a journal, her son passed it on to Shield, when they returned to find her gone. Said it was more theirs than his.

Shield spent days pouring over it, reading her words and thoughts. Some they knew, some she had said aloud. Others were privately hers, but none were a surprise. They had come to know each other well. Names scattered the pages, friends they had met, left, and lost through the years. The words brought back distant memories and gave them the idea.

They took their tools and their shield and began to carve the names they remembered. Vonin, Graulken, Ashraven, then the others, those they had lost on the road, those that they had seen fall in battle. They omitted any that were uncertain, they could not bear to think of friends as dead, not without proof. Should they find out someday, they would add the names to the shield. This task took days, and the names wound their way around the rim and inwards, spiraling. Tidy lines formed the etchings in the mother tongues of their friends. Immortalized in memory, just as Vonin’s name in the stone pedestal of his statue.

* * *

+210

“I’ll pay, it’s a dangerous road, we just… need someone with us.” The boy was nervous, but more about prospect and less about Shield themselves, which was refreshing.

“You needn’t pay, I will walk with you.” They assured him.

“Are you certain? It’s many days away, I know it will be an inconvenience.”

They chuckled, which seemed to startle him for a moment before he understood the sound.

“The sun does not charge for shining, nor the clouds for their rain. I am Shield, I will take whatever opportunity arises to do what I was made to do.”

“That’s very kind.” The boy sighed, he looked near tears with relief. “Thank you.”

They nodded. “I will be here, to leave when you are ready.”

“Okay, alright!” He bounced on his feet, glancing over his shoulder, scanning the city’s crowds. “Let me get my brother, and some food for the road, I’ll be right back!” They watched him run back into the market with a feeling of maternal contentment. They had intended to take another road, but one did not matter over the other. They were a wanderer now, seeking new people, new horizons. They were happier with the latter, but they sought fair share of the former, for Vonin’s sake.

* * *

+220

The boys graduated their school for swordsmanship, both with excellent marks. One found faith, and trained as a paladin for an extended time, while the other took mercenary jobs to earn experience and the coin to put his brother through extra schooling. Years later, they both found Shield again. For a time, Shield had two swordbrothers, instead of one, Aleksander and Jess. Both experienced with the sword, they took to training the boys with a shield as well, so they could serve as both halves of the whole.

* * *

+250

When they too grew old and tired of the hard road, as humans did, Shield took them home to Vonin, where they formed the growing town’s militia, and passed on what they knew to the youth. The swords and shields of the town’s protectors were inscribed with symbols of familiarity, blends of the runes Shield and Vonin bore. The town grew slowly but surely through the years, filling its canyon, sending many of its children south to seek their own roads. Shield walked with them, every child of Vonin was a child of theirs.

* * *

+513

The cart creaked ahead of them, amidst the murmur of voices and occasional shouts of companionship. They looked over the cluster and felt that pull of destiny. Surveyed the others who had been hired and looked for a sword-brother. The tall one had an axe over his shoulder, may be a fitting partner, but there was no particular pull, nothing of a brothers-bond.

But the girl with the stone-set face, who refused to speak, watched them from the back of the cart with a wisdom to her eyes. This time, perhaps, it would not be a sword-brother. This time they had found a new raven.


End file.
